Lyrics and translation The Hit Crew - Burnin' The Roadhouse Down

Burnin' The Roadhouse Down

Praf zi si noapte dupa modelu' 24
Credeam ca sunt nebun pana l-am cunoscut pe Raku
Mustaru e wassabi si arabii sunt wahhabiti
Nu confunda wassabi cu wahhabit
E total straniu
Se trage-n fiecare clipa ca o bomba cu ceas
Vreau jazz la radio, vreau rap in prime-time
Si fiecare clipa ca o bomba cu ceas
Nociv psihic, atipic, clarific treaba,
Nu sta degeaba,
Uita-te la insecte,
Tre' sa stralucesc, dar sunt mult prea obosit sa ma prefac vesel
Pot totul, aduc po..., naaa gandesc la ce scriu
Pur si simplu spun ca sunt un poet antic
Ce faci tu nu se cheama hit, se cheama impardonabil,
Sunt un poet antic
Numele tau marunt si gluma ta stupida n-are nici un haz
Deci scuip fluvii, erup ca Vezuviu,
Distorsionez ca un ciclop care vede dublu
Sunt mai personal ca Sinatra,
Vroiam sa zic socru, okai asa si ce-i cu asta?
Visez mpc, dar la ce bun cand tu ascultzi in mp3
Hip Hop nu-i mp3, Hip Hop nu-i internet
(Iti uram mult succes...)
Daca vrei Hip Hop
Eu o sa-ti dau Hip Hop
Vulpea cu noua cozi esti tu
Care dai din cap,
Intoxicat, toate le deschid si paf,
Raman zen in acest teren minat .
Daca vrei Hip Hop
eu o sa-ti dau Hip Hop
Vulpea cu noua cozi esti tu
Care dai din cap,
Intoxicat, toate le deschid si paf
Raman zen in acest teren minat.
Printre vulpi cumetre, prieteni sau vedete
Am frati din Decebal, Berceni, Cotroceni sau DT (Drumu Taberei)
Ce nu s-au apucat de texte sa-si procure fete,
Sunt stanci cu multe munci pe care media nu-i vede
Si-atunci cand unu reuseste traindu-si linia
Pirania si invidia ar vrea sa-i terfeleasca opinia
Insa frustratzii care scriu
Si paparatii stiu,
Ca lentilele-s ca fetitele cand umbla prea tarziu,
Ia-ti camera de zgarda
Si taie-o c-o s-o plangi la garda,
Biletu nu-ti da dreptu
Sa tragi concertu thank you,
Lasa-l, du-te acasa si pe taste-apasa,
Noteaza ca din cauze de-astea unii de rap se lasa
Zambesc ca sabia laser
Tii doliu dup-orgoliu
Si numai tu alegi sa zaci in gang sau in fotoliu
Am o imagine special culeasa din paragina
Nu stiu de bani, ma-mbrac asa pe strazi sau prima pagina
In gasca fara zdrente si minciuni de smoala
N-am chef ca javrele ma obliga sa ma tin de sala
Traiesc ca umbra-n tundra, sumbra si reala
Si-mi pare rau de ea ca-n teasta vad lumea ideala

Ref. X2

Burnin' The Roadhouse Down

Dust off the night in the 24 style
I thought I was crazy until I met Raku
Mustard is wasabi and the Arabs are Wahhabis
Don't confuse wasabi with Wahhabi
It's totally weird
It goes off every moment like a time bomb
I want jazz on the radio, I want rap in prime time
And every moment like a time bomb
Mentally harmful, atypical, I clarify the situation,
Don't be idle,
Look at the insects,
I have to shine, but I'm too tired to pretend to be cheerful
I can do anything, I bring po..., nah I think about what I write
I simply say that I am an ancient poet
What you do is not called a hit, it's called unforgivable,
I am an ancient poet
Your petty name and stupid joke are not funny at all
So I spit rivers, erupt like Vesuvius,
I distort like a cyclops who sees double
I'm more personal than Sinatra,
I meant to say father-in-law, okay so what about it?
I dream of MPC, but what's the point when you listen in MP3
Hip Hop is not MP3, Hip Hop is not the Internet
(I wish you all the best...)
If you want Hip Hop
I'll give you Hip Hop
You are the nine-tailed fox
Who shakes your head,
Intoxicated, I open them all and poof,
I remain zen in this minefield.
If you want Hip Hop
I'll give you Hip Hop
You are the nine-tailed fox
Who shakes your head,
Intoxicated, I open them all and poof,
I remain zen in this minefield.
Among cunning foxes, friends or stars
I have brothers from Decebal, Berceni, Cotroceni or DT (Drumu Taberei)
Who didn't start writing lyrics to get girls,
They are rocks with many works that the media does not see
And when one succeeds in living his line
The piranha and envy would like to tarnish his opinion
But the frustrated writers
And the paparazzi know,
That lenses are like girls when they walk too late,
Take your camera out of its case
And cut it because you'll cry about it at the police station,
The ticket doesn't give you the right
To shoot the concert thank you,
Leave it, go home and press the keys,
Note that because of these reasons, some people give up rap
I smile like a lightsaber
You mourn your pride
And only you choose to lie in the hallway or in the armchair
I have a special image collected from the wasteland
I don't know about money, I dress like this on the streets or the front page
In the gang without rags and tar lies
I don't feel like the bastards make me stick to the gym
I live like a shadow in the tundra, dim and real
And I feel sorry for her because I see the ideal world in her head

Chorus X2